


Damsel of Distress and Knight in Rusty Armor

by Jin_Saito



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27569782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jin_Saito/pseuds/Jin_Saito
Summary: He was a punk, she did… No, both of them are the immortalizations of mishaps, the ringleaders of havoc and madness. They are the two sides of the same coin, their fates interwoven together by a destructive force. And these are what make them the perfect, power couple.A series of Armin and Annie’s (un)fortunate events with each other’s company.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. The Siren

The days get shorter and colder, beckoning autumn closer. Caramel leaves are roused from their slumber as they gracefully dance along with the chill breeze of early-October. In turn, the trees turn nearly skeletal, their branches bare to the sight of anyone who passes by. One of them is Armin Arlert, a lone man who assists young and inspiring authors, and even students, with writing as a living. His left hand clutches his navy peacoat for added warmth, and a cup of coffee he bought from a convenience store on the other.

“Can’t believe it’s autumn already.” The young man marvels at the sight of leaves taking their final flight with finesse. Dead, yet beautiful. He takes a sip from the coffee while getting lost in thoughts of autumn’s beautiful yet cruel theme. _‘It’s the end of the beginning,’_ he begins to ponder, writing a series of creations in his mind. _‘The leaves, when congregated together, resemble fire. Passion. Dazzling to watch, but perilous to the touch. Similar to how the fragile autumn leaves crumble from any individual’s grasp. Yet, they possess a distinct beauty that manifests a picturesque sce_ _—’_

But his inner, romanticized monologue is cut short when the hot beverage stings his fragile tongue, causing his right hand to quiver in both pain and temporary shock. Armin stops in his tracks and trots to a nearby alleyway to recompose himself. He sticks his tongue out and fans it with his free hand in a poor attempt to alleviate (and eradicate, if possible) the burn. As if unintentionally hurting himself was not enough, a familiar figure approaches him from behind then to his side. The person in question carefully peers at the other’s face to affirm her suspicion and as soon as she does, she nearly loses her poise. “A-Armin…?” Nonetheless, she whispers his name albeit knowing who exactly he is.

When Armin turns to face her, still with his tongue out, she almost asphyxiates herself from suppressing the laughter in her throat. Armin furrows his brows at her, silently informing her to quit poking fun at him for now and instead offer assistance. “Annie!” She covers the lower half of her face with her coat sleeve, releasing a healthy dose of muffled giggles and occasional snorts. It took her a few moments to recover, but once she did, Annie snaps the double pops she has in half and hands over one of them to Armin.

Armin gladly takes the popsicle with no hesitation and promptly sticks a portion of it in his mouth, not even questioning why she has a pair of ice cream sticks in this rather cold weather. His pained expression changes to a relieved one akin to a child who finally got hold of a toy he had been pestering his mother about. Annie, the sardonic “witch” that she is, boldly teases him for it. “What sort of _laughable_ trouble did you get into this time? Tongue got burned from a cup of hot coffee?” Armin doesn’t reply. Instead, he shows her the cup of coffee he’s still holding while he relishes the sensation of frost on his scalded tongue.

Annie looks at the beverage, then at him, back to the coffee, and finally at his face again. With her mouth ajar, eyes filled disappointed, and brows scrunched up in disbelief, she shakes her head. “I was… trying to make a joke, but I guess I even suck at that,” she breathed. Annie snatches the cup of coffee from his grip and takes a sip for herself. Enjoying the sugary taste, she takes another, consuming almost half of the now lukewarm drink. Armin, on the other, doesn’t seem to mind this at all. The two have known each other for nearly two years and it isn’t the first time they exchanged material things. Plus, Annie willingly offered one of the popsicles to him, so it’s a win-win situation for both of them.

“Come on, let’s go.” Annie turns on her heels and is about to saunter away from the alleyway, the cup of coffee and the other half of the popsicle in each hand, when Armin reaches out to gently yet firmly place his hand on her shoulder, enough to alert her of something. “Uh, Annie, I think I might need some help…” Confused, Annie turns to face Armin again, trying to discern what he needs assistance for. She examines him from head to toe, yet recognizes nothing amiss aside from his suddenly odd way of speaking. Annie tilts her head in confusion, but when Armin glances down at the popsicle he’s holding by the stick, still in his mouth, realization dawns on her.

The sweet-flavored ice cream stick got stuck on his tongue.

...

It was around this season, too, when Armin and Annie first met. Armin has been taking residence in an apartment complex near the town’s main bus station. Due to its proximity to the bus stop, the complex has been an eye-candy for workers and students alike. Before Armin’s next-door neighbors (a married couple and their six-year-old daughter) moved out, they gave him a bag of oatmeal cookies. The young man nearly shed a tear from the family’s generosity and absent-mindedly embraced the girl, the one who handed over the sweets to him. However, Armin failed at suppressing his emotions when the little girl told him she’d miss him, and that they’d play pictionary when they meet again.

Less than a week after the family’s departure, Armin heard from his fellow tenants that somebody had rented the vacant apartment next to his. “That was quick,” he thought, but not in a form of complaint. In fact, he was grateful that he would have a new neighbor. His apartment is situated on the farthest left side of the third floor, so he had been feeling quite lonely when the family next to him left. He did, however, hope that the new person would not cause any trouble to him or to anyone; otherwise, he might not be able to handle the stress and move out or request for a transfer himself.

Armin opened his laptop and turned it on to begin his work. A college student taking up a major in creative writing, he also looked for a part-time job that could both improve his skills to help him in his course and earn money. He ended up setting a blog as a freelance writing assistant to numerous clients. He started small at first, but he eventually got the reputation needed to have more clients and, of course, financial stability. To balance his study, work, and personal life is a challenge in itself, and he’d rather avoid discussing it lest he decided to quit one or two of them. He stretched his arms out, fingers intertwined with one another, cracking his knuckles in the process. “All right, let’s get down to work.”

Only the noises of keyboard smashing could be heard in the confines of his room. His eyes were glued to the monitor, moving along the words he was typing. He quickly reached out to get a sip from his glass of water on his right before resuming his work: a new writing manual for beginners, focusing on dialogue tags based on emotions. ‘Yes! This is perfect!’, he inwardly exclaimed. ‘The choice of words… Yes, this is good, no, exceptional, even!’, he rambled to himself as a form of motivation. ‘You can do this, Armin, just focus and believe in yourself. Be more confident!’

Armin leaned back on his computer chair to view the result of his hard work for the past two hours.

**_‘The’_ **

He sighed in disappointment at himself, but Armin was aware of his incapacity to write at the moment. He typed, deleted, modified words and sentences, and it went on and on for the past two hours. Yet, the result was less than lackluster, utterly disappointing. In fact, there was no relevance to it whatsoever and Armin grimaced at the fact that he wasted two hours of his precious hours that night for nothing. Needless to say, he had been losing inspiration, either from burnout or writer’s fatigue. Either way, he settled on taking a quick tour outside to have his mind gears work once more, and perhaps grab a can or two of ginger beer.

As he stepped outside of the apartment complex, he saw a van and a girl carrying three boxes on her arms get off of the said vehicle. Armin stood still for a moment to see if there was anyone else after getting an idea that the said girl might be his new next-door neighbor. But none followed and it was just her; nobody dared assist her in bringing her things to the third floor. She didn’t appear bothered or struggling, however, yet Armin deemed it necessary to at least offer support. He wasn’t in a hurry anyway.

“Hey there!”, he beamed and flashed a smile in her direction. It caught her attention, but all he got in return was a boring gaze. “Are you on your way to 314?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Great! I live in 315, you see, and I’m going to be your next-door neighbor. My name’s Armin. And you’re…?”

“Annie.”

It made Armin at ease that despite her icy glare and scowling face, she was willing to exchange pleasantries with him. “Nice to meet you! Anyway, I don’t think we can shake hands if those boxes on your arms are in the way, right?” What a smooth transition, Annie thought. “I’ll help you out.”

Annie found his method of offering assistance amusing. It was unquestionably assertive but delivered in a clever way where the receiver would not feel offended at all. “All right,” she accepted. Armin took the medium box on top of the other two, but his moxie fell into the depths of the earth and his arms were nearly severed from his joints due to the weight of the container. He bit his bottom lip and eyed the box he was holding and the remaining ones on her arms. “Welp, t… this one’s h-heavy…” he stammered.

Armin is never an ideal man when it comes to heavy lifting, that much he’s aware of, but that doesn’t necessarily equate to him being incapable of hauling lighter objects. But the box in question was one of those he would, without a doubt, have difficulties with. “Sorry about that,” Annie apologized, but a bit nonchalantly. “I have my weights inside that box.”

_‘One would put the lightest object on top when they are to stack it with others if the items weighed variously. If this already weighs this much, then the others…’_

Armin mentally shook his head to get rid of the disconcerting thought in his mind of the possibility that the boxes underneath the one he took weighed more than he had.

Way more.

And Annie was not struggling at the slightest.

The pair took the elevator to the third floor. Although Annie didn’t ask for any information about why they had to since it’s not something worth questioning, Armin spent about three to five minutes justifying the importance of elevators. Truthfully, he merely found the box both heavy _and_ harrowing to lift. Riding the elevator was his only salvation from keeping his arms intact.

And from embarrassment in front of a girl who could carry twice (or more of) his burden.

It took them about five to six trips back-and-forth from her apartment to the van. Armin took the liberty of checking the rest of the people in the van, curious as to why nobody was willing to assist Annie, and why she wasn’t asking for one in the first place. He found it strange that she accepted _his_ offer regardless. Upon closer inspection, the only person left in the vehicle, a man on the driver’s seat, was in deep slumber, talking rather loudly in his sleep.

“You know why… Santa has one big sack? Mm… It’s because he…” There was a snort. “Only comes once a year…”

Armin ignored the remark and took the last box (one of Annie’s wardrobe boxes) but after realization hit him, his face contorted to both disgust and concern. He quietly left the van not long after.

In the end, Armin wasn’t able to get any can of ginger beer nor the chance to stroll the streets. He didn’t regret volunteering to help Annie, however. After getting her things brought up to her apartment and before leaving, Armin bid her a good night with an amiable smile. Annie muttered a low “Thanks, you too” in response, and the moment she was left alone inside her new abode, she pursed her lips, finding it suddenly baffling to cope with his “adulation” (at least to a person like herself).

Or perhaps he’s just a good-natured young man towards anyone.

“Tch. Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right from your lungs,” Annie reminded herself.

On the other hand, Armin earned nothing but a pair of sore arm muscles. “You reap what you sow, I suppose,” he mused. As he slowly drifted off to slumber, visualizations of possible inspiration to write his manual, as well as a new story plot, came crashing into his mind like a tsunami in a form of a dream: His new manual receiving positive feedback days after its publication…

As well as a story about a mysterious yet beautiful sea nymph the hero has been seeing on his ocean adventures, only for the said Siren to turn out to be an actual human being whom the protagonist had been mistaking for a goddess due to her ethereal charm.


	2. Fire alarm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and Annie revel in the artistry of peak fiction that is “The Erstwhile Tyrant of Hades.” So much so that the masterpiece leads their fellow inhabitants into a state of hysteria.

_Humanity is made up of people as is the ocean is composed of drops. Alas, every drop is nothing, inconsequential even, to the vastness of the sea’s almost boundless horizon. But when they advance together as one body, therein lies power. The water is mighty; with ample force, it is capable of opposing and sabotaging the land. ‘Tis much is known by a young seafarer by the name of Conrad Parker, who was born with an innate love for the mammoth blue._

_“The ocean is my sister. I wonder, if I were brought into this world with fins for limbs and gills for nose and mouth, would I be free? The sea would have been the air I intake to survive; I would have moved in its depth with regal ease, more than a bird in the sky.”_

_One fateful night when Conrad craved for the shore in one of his marine adventures, as he watched the sea breathe steadily, waves rising and falling with rhythmic ease, he saw a speck of glow in the darkness of the night. He was bewildered at the sight: Her gait was graceful and delicate, akin to a goddess walking on a glass floor. Eyes of frost, almost diamond blonde hair that swayed pompously with the gust._

_Silently seducing him._

“Wait, why don’t you want to go there by car?”

“It’s boring. And the supermarket isn’t _that_ far. Unless your little legs can’t handle going there on foot?”

“A gentle reminder that I’m taller than y—eowch!” Armin winces almost immediately when Annie’s hand crept to one of his sides, nearly creating a fissure on his muscle tissues with a single pinch had she not restrained herself.

Sunday is a perfect day to be out in the streets and do recreational activities, as well as chores and errands. Armin and Annie came to a mutual agreement yesterday evening that they’d do the groceries together the next morning. A part of Annie wants to travel to the store on foot and carry grocery bags to exercise. Another is, despite not being vocal about it, wanting to spend some leisure time with Armin. She isn’t particularly close with anybody aside from him and a co-worker named Hitch at her part-time job in a pre-school.

Over the past two years they have known each other, Annie has built friendship with others, too, but mostly with Armin’s companions themselves. The pair sets off on their brief journey to the supermarket by talking about the group of friends they now share, their own little circle of comfort and chaos. Armin begins by complaining about Eren leaving marks on some _important_ pages of his precious magazine after it was returned to him. When Annie inquires what magazine it is, the other informs her that it’s “a prized possession shared among men.” Annie doesn’t probe into the subject any further.

The two arrive at the supermarket in less than 30 minutes by foot. They agreed to meet at aisle 15 before getting in line to the cashier. Armin goes straight to buy the essentials: food to stock, first-aid kits, medicines, and toiletries. On his way to his and Annie’s rendezvous point, Armin passes by aisle 8 where dairy products are situated. Although he doesn’t need them at the moment, he decides to buy some butter and cheese.

“Oh. Mac and cheese sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, Annie has nearly the same contents in her shopping cart as Armin’s but has cans of wet cat food among others. Her snacks also mostly consist of sweets. She sees Armin standing by their meeting point, scrolling through his phone. “Got everything you got?”, Annie greets him first. “Yep, and some extra.”

They then make their way to the cashier booth with the fewest number of people in line.

“Oh, right. I got a digital copy of “The Erstwhile Tyrant of Hades.” Wanna watch it together?”, Armin invites Annie while in the queue.

Annie scoffs at his proposal but is thankful nonetheless. “Do you even have to ask? You already did me a favor by purchasing it. Less expense for me.”

“Awesome. I have mac and cheese, too.”

Annie glances up at him with slightly wide eyes. “Holy shit. I get to watch a nice movie _and_ eat good food? I hate to say this, but you’re not so bad yourself.”

Something tugged at Armin’s heartstring. He isn’t entirely certain himself, but he finds himself peering into Annie’s glacier eyes. The peculiar feeling that formed at that instant made Armin believe that time ceased for everyone except for himself. Once again, words begin to form in his mind to compose sentences that his own psyche cannot depict properly.

 _“Ah. Have I been utterly blind, or tricked into believing that her eyes carry apathy in them? The icy blue hue merely acts as deceit to what lies in her eyes fathoms deep: reticent grandeur. They possess feather-like touch of floe and black voids that are her pupils amidst the harsh blizzards. If her eyes were the ocean, I would gladly allow myself to be submerged in_ _—”_

Armin jolts awake from his melodramatic daydreaming when he hears the wheels of Annie’s shopping cart rattle as she pushes it a step closer to the cashier. “By the way, I’ll do the laundry today and you’ll help me.” He scoffs at her scant threat and pushes his cart closer to hers. He attempts to dismiss the growing train of thought he had earlier, finding it ridiculous that he had a moment of awe towards Annie.

While in the queue.

In a supermarket, of all places.

“Nice joke, Annie.”

…

It wasn’t a joke.

Before going to Armin’s apartment, he and Annie drop by the latter’s first. Fortunately, only her sheets and blankets needed washing, so it didn’t consume ample time for that day. Armin takes the last batch of blankets in the dryer while Annie is working on feeding her cat Tabbytha after she finished doing her part of the task (her for the washing and Armin for the drying).

Tabbytha is a 6-month-old tabby cat Annie got from an animal shelter. A few months ago, Annie fell into restlessness due to stress from both her academics and part-time job. She didn’t tell Armin about this, yet he managed to decipher her troubles as if she was an open book for his ocean eyes. He suggested having a pet to ease her worries, especially since she’s living alone and away from her father. Initially reluctant, Annie agreed in the end and got Tabbytha as a result.

It was Armin who named her.

Armin watches Annie rub the back of Tabbytha’s ear while she eats. “You can bring her to my apartment later when we watch the movie,” he proposes with utmost sincerity. Annie doesn’t reply immediately and instead takes the basket of dry blankets from Armin’s hold. “Thanks,” she coyly replies before going straight to her room with the basket. The other simply watches her close the door of her bedroom, then looks at Tabbytha, who lifts her head up from her scrumptious meal to stare back at Armin. “She’s shy all of a sudden,” he tells the cat, only for her to lick her lips in response.

“Mew.”

Annie sits comfortably on the couch in Armin’s living room, petting Tabbytha who’s slowly drifting off to sleep on her lap. While Armin is busy preparing the mac and cheese he bought and promised to Annie, her phone vibrates, which she ignores at first. Annie groans in annoyance and finally fishes out her phone from her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket after four whole minutes of non-stop judder. She exhales heavily through her nose upon seeing the name on the screen. “Hitch,” she grumbles venomously.

She’s welcomed by Hitch’s high-pitched greeting as soon as she accepted the call. “Annie~!”

“Yeah?”

“Very enthusiastic as ever. Hey, wanna hang out? I saw a cool karaoke place a few miles from here. Let’s check it out, we’ll use my car.”

“No.”

“Whhhhhy?” Annie flinches at the other’s whimper. “It’ll be fun, I promise. And I’ll let you sing more songs this time.”

“I’m spending the whole day with Armin.”

Hitch gasps, followed by a mischievous “Oh?”, causing Annie to slightly panic and raise her voice a bit in defense, almost jolting Tabbytha awake. “Not in _that_ way, Hitch, don’t you dare—” It’s loud enough for Armin to hear.

“Where’s the little rascal? I’ll give him a high-five in the face for being a sneak,” Hitch teases. Annie can only form noises of disapproval, as her friend is not giving her any opportunity to interrupt. “Not that surprising, though, since you’ve known each other for years, but wow~ It never occurred to me that Armin would be bold enough to do that. He strikes me as a noble man who’d marry you first before, hehehe, you know.”

“For the love of God, Hitch, shut up.” It was the only chance Annie could rebut her statements. However, Armin unintentionally makes the situation worse by opening an entire pack of honey-dropped flavored bon bons, offering it to her, and saying these dreadful words:

“I’ll put it in in a bit. For now, eat. Pretty sure you’ll love it.”

Hitch nearly passes out from excessive wheezing, resulting in Annie gritting her teeth in annoyance and shame. Her phone nearly cracks under the might of her iron grip. “Goodness gracious, why in the— Help! I’m soooo sorry for disturbing your… your _sexy_ time together, right now, as in, at this moment! I’ll drop the call, bye!”

Annie shoves her phone back in her hoodie’s pocket right after she did. “What was that all about?” Armin blinks, dumbfounded. “Nevermind that, just get the stupid movie rolling already,” she hisses at him and snags the pack of bon bons.

He does what he was told and puts the macaroni and cheese inside the microwave after finishing the preparations he did earlier. He then sits beside Annie on the couch and takes one piece of honey bon bon placed between them as the movie starts.

* * *

_Humans have feared what lurks within the darkness since the birth of time. However, due to the errors caused by their kind such as unnecessary wars, conflicts, and crimes, people have grown to fear their own actions more than darkness itself. This is a story of a group of heroes who have stood up against all odds to fight the corrupted society._

After the introduction, the scene transitions to the speaker’s point of view, showing what it seems like the inside of a mansion. “Ah… the smell and taste of fresh blood,” the voice says in shaky breaths. “Fangs sinking into its skin, the lavish taste of its extracts… overflows my body. Its power… ecstatic, magical, even… These… are…” The vampire haughtily brandishes his cape.

“Sardines!”

Armin chokes on his now honey-flavored saliva and coughs relentlessly. Tabbytha wakes from her slumber and Annie begins to gingerly tap his back.

_His name is Salvador, an elite vampire once feared as a tyrant. Alas, his legend has withered, and has since fallen in the Netherworld’s prison, Hades, glorifying sardines. There stands by his side is his werewolf steward Fenrir, with his unbending loyalty to his master._

Fenrir showers Salvador with praises, revering him as an optimist. Salvador responds by explaining why sardines are the most ideal food, expounding on their nutritional value like omega-3 fatty acids. Salvador refers to it as the “evolution” of his powers, and Fenrir offers him another piece of sardine as an honor for his master’s optimism. As Salvador is about to consume the fish, he stops. He proceeds to scold Fenrir for his deception of giving him sardine infused with human blood.

“I merely meant to give it as a gift to my master, whose powers have vanished from a foolish promise he made to a human in the past,” Fenrir declares in defense of his action. “Yet, I suppose it was absurd of me to trick you, knowing that you never break your promises.”

Just then, a penguin-like creature enters the scene. “Lord Salvador! It is time to go to the Preeny Factory!”

“Why does that thing have a deep ass voice?” Annie questions no one in particular, but Armin replies that he has no idea, yet finds it interesting all the same.

“You! Repeat what you just said!”, Salvador bellows, causing the penguin-like creature to cower in fear.

“I-I just said it’s time to go to the factory—”

“Fool! You have forgotten the most important _and_ basic rule of a Preeny! Rule no. 1, always add “bro” at the end of your sentences!”

The Preeny continues to shake in intimidation. “Y-Yes, Lord Salvador, bro! It w-won’t happen again, b-bro!”

“Too late. Back to level 1 with you.”

**_Level 1 Preeny Task: Scrubbing the toilet_ **

_Beeeeep beeeeep beeeeep_

The fire sprinkler in the living room activates, water violently dousing Armin and Annie. Tabbytha leaps from Annie’s lap and scampers towards the door to escape, but it’s closed shut. Annie runs after her cat out of impulse and lifts her quickly yet tenderly in order not to scare her even further. When she turns around to check on Armin, she finds him in the kitchen, turning off the microwave with trembling hands. “You set the fire alarm off making mac and cheese!”, she furiously calls out to him.

It made Armin panic even more, so instead of opening the window that points outside to let the smoke out away from the building, he opens the one next to it. The smoke makes its way to the third floor’s hallway, activating the common area fire alarm.

While lamenting at this horrible mistake, Armin remains stationary and recalls the movie they’re engrossed in.

“I wonder...” he mutters, as his fellow tenants on the third floor flee their apartments in fright. “What was that promise Salvador vowed that made him, a creature from Hell, cling to it in an unwavering manner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The Erstwhile Tyrant of Hades” is based on the video game Disgaea 4.  
> Salvador, the Tyrant - Valvatorez, the Tyrant  
> Fenrir, the Werewolf Steward - Fenrich, the Werewolf Steward  
> Preeny - Prinny


	3. Catsaber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter vacation is upon them, and an obligatory invitation to a get-together is issued. The next day, however, Armin discovers the grim reality of an unfortunate event the night before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay, I decided to take a break the past few days. Anyhow, I’ll post these at the beginning to avoid confusion while reading the chapter:
> 
> MMORPG names  
> Armin - NeroAngelo  
> Eren - Deimos_99  
> Jean - Exterminator-Ravi  
> Ymir - andromeda0523

“Give it a rest, Jean…”

“After causing panic to the tenants? Hah!”

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you!”

“You’re one to talk, Eren.”

“ _Men._ ”

Roughly two weeks ago, Jean witnessed the tenants standing outside of the apartment complex. He himself is a resident from the same building as Armin and Annie, but lives on the second floor. Jean surmised that the people outside are occupants on the third floor since he’s familiar with most of them by faces. After inquiring one of them, he learned that the common area fire alarm went off, so he scurried into the building to check if his room (Armin and Annie as well) was unharmed despite the protests from the tenants.

When Armin’s explanations shed light on the matter, Jean nearly lost himself from laughing right then and there. Armin appeared upset and simply stared at him, but Annie elbowed his torso, hitting him right in the diaphragm. “ _Now_ laugh,” she spat at him before handing the towel over to Armin.

Currently that evening, Armin, Jean, Eren, and Ymir are playing an MMORPG while in a voice chat. They have other players in their guild, but only the four of them are in a private voice chat—a unique feature the MMORPG they’re playing has—to avoid unnecessary conflict with outsiders and not cause noise pollution. Ymir, whose chosen hero is a rogue, initiates the conversation related to the actual game.

“Camp?”

“Nah, farm,” Eren says over his headset’s microphone.

Ymir flicks her tongue. “Fine, you suicidal bastard, but let’s wait for horse face. Probably still setting up or something.”

The “horse face” mentioned yells at his microphone. “PvP later after this! You and me!”

“Ready when you are. And no, not talking about your and Ymir’s PvP,” Armin announces calmly.

As per basic game rules, the “holy trinity” is the ideal and common design for MMORPGs: Eren’s Dark Knight for DPS, Jean’s Protection Warrior as Tank, and Armin’s Bishop as Healer. Meanwhile, Ymir’s Rogue serves as their Scout. Other players in their guild have their own respective classes and roles as well such as CC and Main Assist.

The first run of their game runs smoothly, with other players in their guild cooperating and interacting with them via chat box:

 **_Slayerrrr:_ ** _just in d nick of tym, thanks!!!_

 **_Deimos_99:_ ** _no prob_

 ** _andromeda0523:_** _more_ _mobs @ 3 oclock_

 **_NeroAngelo:_ ** _Ravi, take the lead._

 **_Exterminator-Ravi:_ ** _on it. hey, sludge, come w/ me_

 **_sludgeHammer:_ ** _kk_

 **_NeroAngelo:_ ** _Are we going with kite as planned?_

 **_Mina4: ************_ ** _if i get LD AGAIN, i swear_

 **_Deimos_99:_ ** _LMAAAOOOOOOO_

While the game’s run is still placid, Armin wonders what his friends’ plans are for the upcoming winter vacation. He considered going out with Annie—unless she has to visit her father—but he thought about spending time with their circle of friends as well. Curious, he asks them via voice chat. “Hey, what are you all planning for winter vacation?” Jean groans noisily, enough for his microphone to catch his breath. “Can you lower your mic’s volume? That was disgusting!”, Eren complains, agitation evident in his voice.

Jean doesn’t seem to take his irritation seriously and refuses to acknowledge it. “Mom keeps nagging me to come back home. As if I’d want to, remind me again why I left in the first place!”

Jean, a law student, decided on his own to leave his home due to his parents’ (most notably his mother’s) excessive doting. It came to the point that his mother’s pinning towards him is still persistent until present times despite him being a young adult. Regardless of his unpleasant decision, his parents continue to provide him financial support, both as an act of love and for him to focus on his studies. He doesn’t have a part-time job.

The group enters a dungeon. Armin’s question reminded Ymir of something worth sharing to her circle of friends. “Speaking of,” she says. “Historia’s planning to organize a Christmas party, but she’s yet undecided what kind of party exactly. I’ll update you with the details and you guys will come. I won’t take no for an answer.” Eren responds while mass slaying the mobs and other enemies with his fellow DPS in their guild, “Will there be booze? There’s gotta be booze.” Ymir guffaws at the mention of alcoholic beverage, later chiding Eren for his foolish question. “You’re dumb as always! _Of course_ there’ll be alcohol! Don’t let that bald nitwit drink most of them, though. He’s annoying as fuck when he’s drunk.”

“If there’s alcohol and games, you know I’m in,” Eren declares proudly, but when Jean asked about Mikasa, irritation once again slips into his nerves. Mikasa’s behavior when it comes to attending events is easy to read: bring Eren or Armin with whoever, and she will indubitably follow. Although Jean doesn’t directly state that he will be attending Historia’s planned party, the fact that Eren will be present is a beckon for him to do the same. All for the sake of seeing Mikasa.

Contemplating this, Armin mentally notes that Connie will definitely come to the get-together with Sasha. “How ‘bout you, Armin? You better not chicken out just because of whatever weird reason you have.” He has no plans on declining the offer, he wants to tell Ymir, but there’s something else, or rather, _someone_ else in his mind.

“Can I bring Annie along?”

 **_sludgeHammer:_ ** _y’all, they’re here. that massive annoying guild_

 **_andromeda0523:_ ** _nero what do we do_

 **_NeroAngelo:_ ** _Get the CCs in action._

 **_Mina4:_ ** _brt_

As the group engages the enemies with their planned strategy, Ymir teases Armin over the microphone for his prior question. “Aw~ What’s wrong, little lover boy? Can’t leave your girlfriend behind?~ Hahaha!” This causes Armin to lose focus both in reality and in-game. “Er, what…?! H-Huh—” As a result, the formation of their group is ruined. His other guild members begin to chastise him for it, not knowing the sweats forming on his temples behind the computer screen. Even Jean taunts him for it in the voice chat, but Eren is, surprisingly, the most reasonable one out of the team.

“Quit ganging up on Armin and fight!” Eren sends the same message via chat box, but non-verbatim and typed in uppercase letters.

Unfortunately, even Armin can no longer get back into formation. Their plan backfired, and his Bishop became the target of the opposing party. Jean attempts to come to his aid, but a random player with the name catsab3r, an Assassin, manages to sneak into his defenses.

**_“NeroAngelo, slain”_ **

In one fell swoop, the Assassin uses a lethal attack on Armin’s character. Overwhelmed, Armin chooses to quit the game despite his guild members’ pleas for him to come back after his character respawns. He bids everyone a good night before logging out of the server and the game. However, Armin’s intention is not to go to bed, but rather open up his documents on his computer to continue writing, something that only he himself knows.

* * *

The next day at around 5 in the afternoon, Armin drives his way to the pre-school where Annie works part-time. The two have been keeping tabs on their school and work schedule despite attending different universities in order to stay “updated,” meaning they intend to watch each other’s backs in case an emergency arises. He parks his car in the parking lot and makes his way to the entrance of the pre-school, but remains hidden from her or any of her colleagues’ sight.

“Leonhardt? Yeah, she isn’t very friendly,” one of the school guards tells Armin. It isn’t the first time he came to visit Annie, so the security guards are already familiar with him. Ironically, however, they seem to be unaware of Armin and Annie’s closeness despite having a keen eye as part of their job requirement.

Another school guard chimes in. “Didn’t she kick a man in the balls when he was looking suspiciously at one of her students?”

“Oh, that. She told me about it. And she seemed really proud of it,” Armin says. “It's funny because she isn’t even a P.E. teacher.”

The guard snorts at his remark. “Can’t believe someone who teaches kids and dances and sings with them doesn’t hesitate to beat the crap out of a man.”

Just then, several adults gathered up by the entrance gates. The other school guard groans at the sight. “Great, _parents_ .” Armin cannot help but eye him skeptically. “Uh, isn’t this an everyday occurrence?” The other shakes his head and sighs heavily, as if seeing the children’s guardians is an everyday nightmare for him. “You’ll never understand the trouble of having, well, _troublesome_ parents, kid. They can get on your nerves pretty well. Or badly, depends on how you view it.”

“...Aren’t you a parent yourself?”

“Why, yes!” The man’s demeanor quickly changes to glee and his eyes glimmer with elation. “Oh, my sweet sweet daughter Elise and my wonderful wife Maryjane, I can’t wait to see my beautiful angels again after my shift. Lad, did you know, when Elise was born—”

As he rambles about the eternal beauty of both his daughter and wife for the nth time, Armin side glances at the other school guard who merely shrugs at his partner’s prattle. Armin mentally curses at himself for asking the school guard about his parenthood, although it was meant to be a mocking comment rather than an actual question.

Armin then sees Annie within his sight’s range, with children following her from behind. There’s an alien smile plastered on her face that even he himself is not familiar with, although he doesn’t view it as something unfavorable. In fact, he finds it comforting to see her smile in such a way; there’s solace in it that he cannot properly put into words.

_Conrad and his fellow seafarers, the Queen’s Mayflower, are no plunderers. They seek no illegal jewels but expeditions. They commit to no maraud but to exploration. Yet, the sea is boundless and contains the unknown, that much is certain. And along the way, braving the might waves of his beloved ocean, lies a glimmer of treasure. “See to it that we arrive at our destination,” Conrad orders his crew, his eyes burnished with anticipation._

_The thought of laying his eyes on the uncharted glint leads to Conrad reminiscing about the sea nymph he witnessed in his previous adventure. His heart bursts in the same verve he felt when he first saw her._

_Their brief sail went swimmingly; “I’d love to believe that she is protecting me. Protecting us, and our ship. I shall give her my gratitude when I see her again,” Conrad tells himself. Just then, a bottle with a scroll of paper is pulled up. The crew is evidently disheartened at their discovery. Some are tensed, as bottled messages are customarily used to send distress messages. Nonetheless, Conrad is determined to read the message. “Hand it over to me.” The bottle contained no note, but a map to a remote island with promises of riches._

“Huh? What’re you doing here, Armin?”

“Oh, uh, I just came to pick you up to—”

One of the children hears Armin and turns to see him. “Miss Annie, you have a boyfwend?”, the boy asks innocently, his grin reaching his ears. The boy’s mother joins in the conversation with an apology, but indirectly teases Annie and Armin about it by scolding her son. “I’m so sorry about my son trying to pry into your private life! Now, James, it’s not nice to interfere in grown-up conversations, _especially_ if it has something to do with their romantic relationship, okay?” Hearing the mother’s remark made blood rush to Armin’s face, his ears growing hot red from embarrassment. He glances at Annie to see her reaction, but is even more ashamed that she doesn’t seem troubled by it at all.

To make matters worse, the rest of the parents, even the security guards themselves, proceed to express their surprise regarding the two.

“Wait, you two are _actually_ going out?!”

“He does look like a gentleman!”

“Miss Leonhardt is quite lucky. He’s a good-looking man.”

“Armin and Annie, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G~”

Everyone in the vicinity turns to look at the person singing while clapping her hands: Hitch with her own group of young students. “First comes love, then comes marriage,” the children resume, then Hitch follows. “Then comes the baby in the baby carriage~”

Armin wishes nothing more but for the earth to turn to quicksand and bury him underneath temporarily. Annie, on the other hand, appears visibly aggravated now than before. “Oh, it’s you, Bit— Hitch. Sorry, one letter difference. Anyway, don’t poison the kids’ minds with your own silly thoughts.” Hitch merely chuckles at the other’s attempt to scold her while containing her vexation. “Annie, Annie~,” she playfully coos as she approaches her. “You need to be more honest with your feelings.”

“The only thing I’m feeling right now is irritation and you’re not helping at all. Armin, we’re getting out of here once I get my things.”

Prior to the incident, Armin quietly chastised one of the school guards when he made an exasperated reaction towards the children’s parents. “Thanks, because I hate it here.” He doesn’t mean what he said, yet now, Armin somehow empathizes with him due to the humiliation he has been feeling.

…

“So? You came to pick me up for…?

Annie gets in Armin’s car and hands him one of the orange juice bottles she bought from the school cafeteria. He tells her about the invitation to Historia’s party and requests for her help in buying new winter clothes while starting the engine, to which Annie agrees to both. She needs to buy some for herself, too, anyway. Thankfully, Armin manages to recover from the earlier assault of “unending shame” as he worded it, though it took him some pats on the back, two blueberry donuts, and now, a bottle of orange juice.

Aside from the Christmas get-together, Armin invites Annie to play the same MMOPRG he and their other friends are currently engrossed in. “What game?”, she asks coolly as Armin drives their way to the department store. He tells her the name of the game when they arrived and stopped at a red traffic signal. “We actually played the game yesterday but something… came up and my hero got killed! Assassinated!,” Armin laments at the horrible memory. “It was my fault for losing my focus but! That Assassin, username Catsaber, I will _never_ forget, was…!” Halfway to twisting the cap of her orange juice to get another gulp, she stops.

“Were you NeroAngelo?”

Armin gawks at her.

“...I’ll take that as a yes, I suppose. Sorry for killing your hero.”

The red light turns green, but the horns from the vehicles behind Armin’s car aren’t enough to stir him awake from shock. Annie simply leans back on the chair comfortably, takes a swig from her orange juice, and inwardly laughs at her own little jubilance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For non-players:  
> MMORPG - Massive Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game  
> Camp(ing) - Players wait in an area to hunt specific spawns or mobs  
> Farm(ing) - Opposite of camp. Players basically kill mobs or repeat certain actions to gather items  
> DPS - “Damage per second.” Damage-dealer in a game  
> Tank - Classes who absorb or take the damage of the team; in other words, meat shield  
> Scout - Classes that have extra-sensory abilities. They explore an area before a group enters  
> CC - “Crowd Control.” Classes that reduce the abilities and number of the group’s opponents/mobs  
> Kite - A technique to lure the enemies by letting them chase after you while your allies attack them  
> LD - “Link Dead.” Happens when a player is disconnected from the game either from a faulty internet connection or lag  
> BRT - “Be right there.”


End file.
